The Many Smiths in the Phonebook
by PaBurke
Summary: There was once a MI-6 spy impregnated by a KGB spy and she gave the baby girl to a CIA spy to hide so that she could grow up and have a normal life. Life has a way of not following one's plans.


**The Many Smiths in the Phonebook**

By paburke

Spoilers: for all of the movies RED and Mr. & Mrs. Smith

Summary: There was once a MI-6 spy impregnated by a KGB spy and she gave the baby girl to a CIA spy to hide so that she could grow up and have a normal life. Life has a way of not following one's plans.

Disclaimer: No one belongs to me.

;P

John Smith woke up in the pricy yet anonymous hotel room and knew something was wrong before his hand found nothing under his pillow. He should have a gun there. He tried to be casual as he reached under his wife's pillow. He found Jane's hand (empty) and enough tension in her fingers to know that she was also awake and missing her gun. They were on the run from the people who wanted them dead and someone had managed to unarm them.

"We know that you're awake, dears," a female voice with a British accent called.

Jane rolled over and sat up. "Victoria?!"

John sat up and concentrated on the other person in the room, whom he recognized. "Jane, why is the actor you hired to play your father at your wedding here?"

Jane broke off her staring match with the elegant, white-haired woman to identify the older, balding man in the doorway. "I don't know, but that is the actor I hired."

Victoria smiled at the strange man. "Francis! You inveigled yourself to be part of Jane's wedding, you old softie!"

Francis didn't let emotions cloud his face, but his body gave the impression of confusion. John was pretty sure that he knew Francis was confused because Francis was letting him see the confusion. "Isn't that what godfathers are supposed to do?" the supposed actor asked.

"Only if everyone involved is a spy?" another female added wryly. "And as the only non-spy in the room, let me point out that we should let them get dressed before Ivan returns with breakfast. You already disarmed them and peaked their curiosity. They'll stick around. But doesn't matter if you are married, you don't want the first impression you give your biological father to be one of you naked in an occupied bed."

"Sarah is correct," Victoria agreed. She smiled beatifically at both John and Jane. "Hurry and get dressed, dears. We have so much news to catch up on." She ushered Francis out of the bedroom.

Jane called out and made the older woman pause. "Victoria, are you here for a contract?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Jane. Why would I accept a contract to kill my own daughter when I worked so hard to keep you safe? Now do hurry. Ivan should be back at any moment." She closed the door purposefully.

John and Jane were equally stunned.

"Car accident when you were six?" John asked as he tossed the blanket aside and grabbed his jeans.

"I never went back and checked their DNA," Jane confessed. "Have you seen my…"

John was holding up the bra with a leer. She rolled her eyes at his juvenile behavior and grabbed her clothes. "You know Victoria?"

"One of the best snipers in the business. Had a complete career with MI-6. Supposedly retired but she still does the odd contract for my old company." She buttoned her shirt and ran her fingers through her hair. John thought she looked beautiful and told her so.

She appreciated the comment and threw his shirt at his head. "Hurry up."

Together, they opened the door to chaos. An older Russian had arrived, laden with coffees and pastries. The man had to be Ivan. He stopped and called to Victoria. "Our daughter is beautiful and deadly, Bunny. She takes after you." He turned to Francis and bowed. "It appears I owe you one for keeping my daughter safe, Frank Moses."

Moses shrugged from where he was curled up on a recliner with the non-spy Sarah. John had a hard time reconciling the man/actor that had threatened him at the wedding with the RED spy Frank Moses. All those things Moses had threatened and John had discounted could very well come true.

Well what was breakfast without death threats to help the meal digest?


End file.
